


Pulled From the Flood

by tinasnewt



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Afterlife, Angst, Based on a Twitter Post, Bonding, Death, Dragon Pox, Mention of Death, Parents, Sibling bond, elisha_am, prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:55:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25179562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinasnewt/pseuds/tinasnewt
Summary: Tina and Queenie cope with the death of their parents.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	Pulled From the Flood

**Author's Note:**

> This is based on a beautiful fanart and headcanon by elisha_am on Twitter!

Tina walked into her mother and father's bedroom slowly, trying her hardest to be quiet so that she didn't hurt their ears with any noise. Her footsteps on the carpet were muffled, but she still winced as she heard every step she took, the soft fibers of the floor compressing under her weight. She kneeled down beside the bed, forcing herself not to grimace at the mutilated state that Dragon Pox had put on her mother's once beautiful face. The illness was known for making someone look almost unrecognizable, and her parents were no exception. Oh, how Tina wished they were. "Mama," she whispered, reaching out to brush her mother’s hair, turned brittle from lack of care and her failing immune system. Tina’s hand bounced back sharply, as if there was a shield blocking her from doing so. 

"I had to cast the shield charm, it was the only way to keep you and your sister safe from us," her mother said softly, and as she sneezed sparks flew out of her nose and ricocheted on the obscured shield, causing Tina to back away hastily. She looked at her daughter sadly, tears filling her eyes. “I’m sorry. You and Queenie don’t deserve to see us like this.”

“I wanna see you like this,” Tina said, hands resting on the side of the bed, the closest the shield allowed her to be. “It gives you humanity.”

Her mother smiled at her sadly as her dad turned his head with a grown, reaching an outstretched hand toward her. She tenderly placed her hand against it, the tip of her father’s fingers stroking the shield. It was the closest he could get to touching her. “You’ve always been wise beyond your years, my Tina. I wish we could watch you grow into the amazing auror you’ll become one day.”

Tina shook her head, tears filling her eyes. “You will. Don’t give up yet, Pa. I’ve got you. I’ve always got you guys.”

Her father seemed not to hear her, voice cracking. “Queenie, what a beautiful soul. You take care of her, promise me?” He held out his pinky, and Tina held out hers, nodding. He stifled a sob. “When you miss me, look at our star, Porpentina. I’ll always be watching you there.”

“Pa, please. Please stay. I can’t live without you!”

“We love you, Tina,” Her mother said before sparks flew out of her nose again, and she weakened. Her father’s face began to turn white as sparks came out of his nose too, igniting a coughing fit. Tina stared in horror.

“I love you forever, my Tina,” He said simply, his hand still outstretched across her mother’s body.

“I love you too, Ma, Pa,” Tina replied, tears streaming down her face.

“Rest, now,” Her father said. “We’ll be here when you wake.”

Their bodies were, but their souls weren’t. They’d descended to another realm.

+

"Tina, you know you're not supposed to go in Mama and Papa's bedroom!"

It was six months after the death of their parents. The sisters were managing fine, having convinced Mrs. Esposito to allow them to live in the apartment rent-free until Tina graduated from Ilvermorny. That was a year and a half from then, and Tina was counting down the days. She was tired of being the girl everyone pitied. “What does it matter?” Tina asked, frustrated. Her hand was poised above her parent’s bedroom door, untouched since their passing. It was hard to pass the door, and the thought of opening it crushed Tina inside, but she was growing out of her clothes and needed something to fit her taller stature.

Queenie huffed, sliding over the sofa. “It’s disrespectful,” She said, watching her sister over the cushions. “Let their spirits rest.”

Tina shut her eyes, pressing her hands to her face in hopes it would block out Queenie’s words and hide her frustration. It didn’t. “What spirits?” She asked, exasperated. Yes, Queenie was a growing legilimens, but she couldn’t hear or speak to the dead. No one could. Her sister had no response, instead flopping on the couch and laying her head on the armrest. The pair had desensitized the topic of their parents, but a newfound pain ached in Tina’s chest. “They’re dead, Queenie.”

The blonde shot up then, glaring at Tina. “I know that, Tina. I was there, remember? You walked outta ma and pa’s room screaming bloody murder, then Mrs. Esposito came in and left the room cryin’, pretending to be okay not to scare us. Then the aurors came in and took ‘em away. You act like I don’t remember these things.”

Tina, of all people, understood and knew the extent of Queenie’s memory. It’s what made the first few months unbearable. “I know. I’m sorry,” Tina apologized, guilt flooding her. She hated making Queenie relive that moment.

Then Queenie said something that made her blood boil.

“Someday, we’ll see them again,” she said wishfully.

Tina slammed her hand on the door, emotions she’d held back for months on the guise of being strong crashing and burning, finally coming to light. “They’re dead, Queenie! Gone! I watched Ma die, she isn’t coming back. They are DEAD. THEY’RE DEAD!” She bellowed, tears streaming down her face, turning red and blotchy in an instant. Her chest pained her, and she clutched her heart as her body was overtaken with sobs. She rested her head against the unopened door, turning around to slide her back down it and tuck her arms into her knees. Heavy sobs filled the room, and soon Queenie slid down next to her, placing an arm around her sister as she silently cried with her. “Queenie,” Tina said, her voice shaking slightly. “They ain’t ever comin’ back.”

“I know,” Queenie answered. “I was only dreamin’.”

After Tina calmed down, she braced herself and entered her parents room, prepared for any flood of emotions that would find her. Queenie stayed behind, busying herself and preparing dinner. Tina looked around the room, at the still-rumpled bed sheets, and began to clean. She dusted the furniture, made the bed, and folded a few piles of her father’s clothing.

She emerged wearing her mother’s white blouse, her fathers black trousers, and a gray coat she’d found in the back of his closet.

+

The sisters sat on the roof, staring up at the sky. It was the first clear night after months of overcast, cloudy nights. The stars shined down on them, the bright, full moon illuminating the girl’s faces. Tina recalled the last time she’d stared up at the stars, chest aching as it was her final memory of her father before Dragon Pox overtook him. They’d spent many nights on this roof, just him and her, finding constellations and telling stories. It’d been a year since her father passed, and this was the first night Tina had garnered enough strength to ascend to the roof after catching sight of the first star. “C’mon,” she had whispered to a tired and confused Queenie, though she followed obligingly. Queenie never stepped foot away from Tina, and the eldest figured it would stay that way for a long time. They both processed grief differently.

Tina had held the trap door open, taking hold of Queenie’s hand and hoisting her up. Queenie gasped at the stars, causing Tina to smile. They were both in their pajamas, but neither cared. Tina’s hair was messily braided back, Queenie’s long curls descending over her shoulders. Tina tightened her hold on Queenie’s hand, a chill breeze sweeping through the air as the spring began to blossom. She sat in the middle of the roof, Queenie’s back touching hers as they sat in opposite directions. Neither said anything. Queenie knew this was Tina and their pa’s secret place, and quietly thanked the stars that Tina would bring her here. This was the one place where she felt connected to her parents.

“Teenie?” Queenie said into the air, voice quiet. Her use of Tina’s old nickname caused her to perk up, though she remained calm, revelling in the beauty of the sky.

“Huh?”

Queenie’s voice was small, and she sighed, sorrow filling her voice. “Do you think Papa and Mama are up there, watching over us?”

Tina didn’t know how to answer. She was used to hard questions, especially those asked by Queenie, but never anything like this. No questions about the afterlife, where their parents were now. She chose not to think about it. A lump rose in her throat. “I dunno,” She answered after a few moments. Queenie sighed.

“I think they are.”

As the youngest said that, Tina’s eyes landed on the brightest star, the one her father had named “Porpentina,” despite it having an official name. It was Tina’s star. She took that as a message, almost believing it shone brighter at Queenie’s sentiment. A small, sad smile spread across her face, and she said, “Then they are.”


End file.
